


To fight this war

by DearR



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: And friendship even more, Art can be strangely important, Courfeyrac is an English pilot, Enjolras will lead his friends to victory, Grantaire gets sick, It's sad but it's hopeful, Luckily we all know who won, Resistance, Underground, World War II, sorry for mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 00:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11391372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearR/pseuds/DearR
Summary: As a political activist, it is of course his duty to lead his friends and allies into the underground fight against the army invading his country. It is to them to keep as many citizens alive and free until this all ends. To do so, Enjolras uses the big house in the countryside beloning to a friend as a base and a save house to hide. In his war, there is no place for art and quiet words spoken during a long night. But his mind might be changed when a certain artist is in need for the good cares of a doctor and a quiet place to rest.





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know, this is a heavy and difficult setting to write about. Or, at least where I'm from. But it's not just a war story and I don't go into much details about it. It is mostly a story about trying desperately to do the good thing, about hope and about trying to help, in any way possible. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine, both the historical and the grammar ones. I will finish this, it won't be too long. But for now, let me know what you think.

‘Is it really necessary to place him here?’ Enjolras asked for about the third time that day. 

‘In the last hour, I didn’t suddenly change my mind about something that’s been arranged for two days now. Help me with these sheet while you’re here.’ Combeferre threw the clean sheet over the bed and together they made it quick and evenly. The room was rather crowded with two full grown man in it and despite the small painting Cosette had placed on the wall it still looked dark and depressing. 

‘I just don’t see why we’re in need of an artist around here. The agreement was to use this estate as a safe haven for those we cannot miss in this fight or who we need close by to lead it.’ 

‘You might still find the use he has for us, right now it is more about what we can do for him,’ Combeferre explained calm. ‘From what Joly told me I can assure you he has need for us.’ 

‘But he’s an artist, since when is that enough reason to give him the special care?’ 

‘Since you clearly lost your priorities,’ Combeferre frowned. ‘Isn’t this all about saving as many lives as possible? Stopping this nonsense as quickly as we can? Or are you only going to save those who are worthy of it?’

‘Of course not,’ Enjolras mumbled, looking down at the bed to not meet his friends eyes. 

‘Then stop protesting and get back to work. Can you at least try to give him a proper place to stay and make him feel welcome.’ 

Enjolras sighed. ‘I’ll go see if there are more blankets somewhere.’ 

-:-

It was completely dark when the black car drove up to the main building of the manor. It wasn’t the first time they had done this and everybody was standing at the ready to make it go as smooth and quick as possible. There was no real need for Enjolras to be here tonight and he kept telling himself he was standing in front of the house because he had urgent business to discuss with Bossuet. He wasn’t the only one who had come out of bed without having asked to do so. 

Feuilly closed the gate behind the car and locked it firmly. Normally, once on the gravel, the car slowed down to walking speed to avoid making too much noise. When it didn’t Combeferre took a few steps forwards, clearly nervous by it all. Even the breaks made too much sound when the car stopped directly in front of the entrance and Joly jumped out before it had stopped completely. 

‘Quickly! He’s worse.’ He signed Combeferre and Bahorel to come closer while he opened the back door of the car and helped a nervous looking girl out first. The people watching whispered nervously because never before had been spoken during an operation like this. Bahorel, with ease the most muscular of them all, reached into the car and emerged with a visibly shaking body wrapped into a blanket in his arms. Combeferre took one quick look at him and hurried to the house. ‘Open the door!’ he ordered. In passing by, all Enjolras could make out were some messy black curls that were dripping with sweat before Bahorel followed Combeferre inside. Close behind him followed the girl, he didn’t pay her any mind and it was too dark to really see her anyway. When the spectacle was over the crowd slowly disappeared as well, still whispering as they went, and the night once again took hold of the place. Enjolras did his best to check the surroundings in the dark to make sure the car was the only thing that had changed this night. 

-:-

‘What a night,’ Bossuet sighed and shook his head while he stirred the watery coffee in front of him. The day was already in full swing but the bald man understandably had just woken up. ‘I sure made it in a record time.’ 

‘It was unwise to drive that fast,’ Enjolras commented. ‘Think of the risk.’ 

‘The risk of him dying you mean,’ Joly said. ‘Man, I haven’t been this worried since we found Feuilly. I wish at least Ferre would let us know how he’s doing.’ 

‘If there are any changes, I’m sure he’ll let us know,’ Enjolras dismissed it. ‘Meanwhile I could use the two of you to fill me in on a few things in town.’ 

Bossuet hummed and finished his coffee in one go, making an ugly face afterwards. ‘I have to clean the car first, it was one dirty ride.’

‘Alright, but afterwards-‘ 

‘I’ll see if I can convince Combeferre to take a break,’ Joly said and the both of them got up. 

‘Am I really the only one here actually fighting this war?’ Enjolras muttered when the kitchen was empty of people again. 

-:-

Only the next morning did he get a change to meet at least one of the new arrivals. The sun was shining after what seemed like weeks of dark skies and rain and clearly Enjolras wasn’t the only one trying to catch some light while eating is breakfast. 

‘Mind if I join?’ he asked the girl, who had placed her chair in front of the bigger window in the large sitting room and had her eyes closed to enjoy the warmth on her face. 

‘Sure, help yourself.’ She signed him closer without opening her eyes. They sat together in silence while Enjolras eat whatever it was Feuilly had decided to call breakfast this morning. Even with the illegal food stamps it was getting harder and harder to feed everybody at the house. The woman sighed and sat up as she opened her eyes. 

‘This is definitely the most quiet and peaceful place we have been to yet,’ she said, taking up her own bowl and ticking a spoon in the mess in it. 

‘I wasn’t aware you were coming with him.’ 

‘After all this time, I wasn’t going to leave him over some stupid flu.’ 

‘How long have you two been together?’ Enjolras wondered. 

‘I knew him before, you know. We went into hiding together.’ She sighed again. ‘After everything and everyone we’ve seen disappear I really can’t lose him now.’ 

‘He couldn’t be in better hands right now,’ Enjolras tried to reassure her. ‘Combeferre is a very capable doctor.’ 

‘I hope so. I’m Eponine by the way.’ She turned to him and they shook hands. 

‘Enjolras. Can I ask what you did before the war?’ 

‘My parents ran a hotel, I helped out. They moved to England before all hell broke out.’ 

‘Why didn’t you go with them?’ 

‘I was looking for my brother, couldn’t leave him behind you know? But I doubt I’ll be able to find him now…’ 

‘It’s important to keep hoping.’ 

‘That’s what I keep telling Grantaire,’ she said and laughed without it even reaching her mouth. ‘You know, I’m worried sick about him, but most of all I’m worried about how he’ll be when he gets better. What massive black hole he’s going to fall in. He’s the one to make the drawings, but he needs me to keep him sane…’ 

Enjolras nodded. ‘It’s good to have someone. I can’t imagine what I’d have done all these years without Combeferre.’ 

‘Oh, are you two together?’ she asked. 

‘God, no,’ Enjolras said without thinking. ‘I mean, he’s like a brother. How about you and…’ 

‘Grantaire? Hell no, though I love him dearly. I’m by far not his type.’ 

‘Is he doing any better yet?’ Enjolras informed. 

‘Couldn’t get much worse. He keeps going on about the trains…’ She shivered slightly and put the bowl away. ‘And I’m no use sitting next to him, there must be something in this castle you could use my help with? He wouldn’t dare die without me there anyway.’ 

‘I’m sure we can find you something,’ Enjolras nodded, getting up. 

-:-

Javert was able to give the warning in time, but it was a rush as always to get things done before they arrived, especially now Bahorel was occupied with getting Grantaire down. At least he was awake when Enjolras helped to get him into the crawl space. It was crowded and dusty and he wasn’t the only one to cough. 

‘Late,’ Enjolras mouthed when Courfeyrac got in last before Combeferre closed off above them. All he got from the Englishman was a grin and a wink. At least the man crashed down with his plane, what brought some shame over him. Otherwise he would have been too charming for his own good. 

Everybody looked around when the new Jewish man broke into severe coughing. ‘Get it out now,’ Eponine whispered. ‘Before they actually arrive.’ Enjolras made eye contact with Bahorel, who nodded. They waited tense till two taps were heard on the floor above. 

‘I’m sorry, mate,’ Bahorel whispered, making Grantaire sit up a bit and let him rest against his chest. His strong arms prevented him from moving and his hand was placed over his mouth. Enjolras sat close by to help when the need arose and for the first time was able to look in the man’s eyes. They were feverish but also clear and aware of what was happening. Most of all there was a certain determination in it he had not expected. In the complete silence all they did was look at each other and pray. 

The sound of heavy boots came closer and voices ordered to make sure to check certain places. A wave of fear went through their hiding place but everybody kept completely silent as they all listened. A few light, darting feet came by too and the sweet voice offering the soldiers tea made a few of them down there smile because at least Cosette didn’t seem worried at all. But it was a big house and it clearly started to get harder for Grantaire to keep silent. When he started shaking again Enjolras stepped in to keep his legs still and soundless. His eyes started losing focus and Enjolras tapped his cheek to get him to look at him again. To keep him present and occupied Enjolras started moving his lips to tell him about anything that came to mind without giving breath to the words. Maybe the man could read lips or maybe it was just the thought of comfort that kept him grounded for another while. 

Somebody above them dropped something and in the tumult that followed Courfeyrac used the noise to move towards them and help Bahorel keep his arms still. The three of them hold him down as his breathing got worse and all his muscles tensed. As boots came too close to their hiding place than was comfortable Bahorel prevented him from breathing loud by not letting him breath at all. Some determination at least was left in him because he didn’t fight the hand nearly choking him but he couldn’t control his whole body and everybody watched the silent struggle with big eyes of fear. 

Finally, when the footsteps died down and the front door was closed a bit too loud, Bahorel let go and the man rolled on his side and seemed to attempt to cough his longs up. 

‘Is he okay?’ Combeferre shouted when he came running to let them out. Together they got the now violently shaking man out of the crawl space and didn’t comment when they got puked on. Combeferre listened at his chest with so much concentration he couldn’t even look worried. Enjolras stayed around to help but in the long night that followed there was no sign of that determined look. 

-:-


	2. Part 2

‘Tell me your name.’ Enjolras looked up from the papers he had been reading to find the man was awake and looking at him. The fever had broken only two days ago and with no direct threat to his live Combeferre had gone to help other people in hiding with health issues a few towns over and they took turns keeping Grantaire company. 

‘You look better,’ Enjolras said. 

‘I feel better.’ He illustrated by coughing. It even sounded tired and when he moved his hand to push some black hair out of his face he just seemed drained from any energy or strength he might have had left after years of hiding and trying to keep alive. ‘I feel wonderful. In fact, I think I might steal a plane and shoot some-‘ He never knew who Grantaire might shoot when more coughing disturbed his sentence. 

‘Easy,’ Enjolras said quick and sat at the side of the bed to help him drink some water. Grantaire nodded when he had enough and let his head rest on his pillow, clearly ready to fall asleep again. 

‘It’s Enjolras by the way.’ 

‘What?’ The man looked at him but struggled to keep his eyes open. 

‘My name. It’s Enjolras.’ 

‘Enjolras…’ he said as if to taste it and mumbled some words he didn’t quiet catch and didn’t seem to be spoken in a language he knew before he fall asleep again. 

-:-

‘Grantaire is hardly better and you’re speaking about bringing in two more,’ Enjolras frowned when Combeferre informed him of his plan. 

‘She’s a friend of Bossuet and Joly, if you can’t see the strategic point in it, see it as a friends act.’ Combeferre got up and took his plate back to the kitchen, where Feuilly accepted it to get it washed. 

‘But… how are we supposed to hide all these people?’ Enjolras pressed his concern, following him. ‘Feed them? Do you know how difficult it is to get enough food?’ 

‘Yes, Enjolras, I am very well aware of it.’ 

‘If you’re concerned about it getting too crowded, maybe we should move some people away,’ Feuilly said, looking from one to the other. ‘I could go, I have no real reason to be here.’ 

‘No, we’re not getting rid of anyone,’ Enjolras said stern. ‘And besides, we need you here. I need your… I need you.’ 

‘Jee, thanks mate,’ Feuilly chuckled. 

‘Besides, we have farmland here,’ Combeferre said, leaning against the counter and taking out a small notebook. ‘Imagine how distribution of food will be in the cities when this gets worse. Feuilly, I need you to gather some supplies for me.’ He carefully ripped out a page and handed it to the red head. Feuilly looked over it, nodded, and walked off. 

‘I am aware of it, but solving it is a bit complicated. I can’t just call the English and inform them.’ 

Combeferre looked up and grinned. ‘What if we did?’ 

-:-

‘So I was like, that’s a tree you moron!’ Courfeyrac’s thundering laughing voice sounded through the hallway as Enjolras walked towards the door of one of their guest rooms. ‘Oh, no need to hold it in, buddy, it’s just food.’ When he opened the door he could see Grantaire leaning over a bucket while Eponine hold back his hair. Courfeyrac patted his back but they were all still laughing. 

‘Courf…’ 

‘Yes, I appreciate you telling me every half hour half an hour has passed,’ Courfeyrac chuckled, gesturing him to come in and sit on the chair next to the bed. ‘But we have almost an hour left now and you already prepared everything twice, so come sit down and take it easy for a moment.’ 

‘Easy,’ Grantaire repeated Courfeyrac’s dramatic English accent and chuckled. He was still leaning heavily on his pillow and Eponine, but he was sitting and this was by far as lively as Enjolras had ever seen him. 

‘Yeah, easy. Take it easy, chap.’ Grantaire laughed again and it made him cough. ‘You don’t ever listen, do you?’ Courfeyrac laughed, taking the glass of water from the small table. ‘Stop coughing. No, stop coughing! How else are you supposed to drink something that helps against coughing?’ 

‘You’re going to be the death of him,’ Eponine chuckled when it made Grantaire laugh even more and his normally pale face got quit red. Courfeyrac grinned and carefully helped him drink some when he had calmed down a bit. 

‘There you go, that’s better,’ he said soft and patted Grantaire’s knee when his air ways had cleared again. 

‘What is it like?’ Grantaire asked. 

‘Flying?’ Courfeyrac guessed and Grantaire nodded. ‘It’s wonderful, really the most amazing thing I have ever done. It’s exciting and calm at the same time, and the view… You wouldn’t believe the things you can see from up there.’ The young pilot sighed happy at the memory. 

‘And where in this is it that you drop the bombs?’ 

‘Hey, you asked me about flying, not fighting and war,’ Courfeyrac warned. ‘Different thing. Sometimes I’m actually happy I crashed, got me here, right? And I’m useful down here too, aren’t I Enjy?’ 

‘Massively,’ Enjolras said, checking his watch. ‘Even more so if you stick to the plan tonight.’ 

‘He gets like this every time we do something exciting,’ Courfeyrac informed the new two. ‘It’s really a miracle he hasn’t worried himself to an early grave.’ 

‘Is that what you do here?’ Eponine asked. ‘Plan attacks, look after sick people?’ 

‘Something like that. But the less you know, the better it is for everybody.’ Enjolras got up. ‘Courf?’ 

‘It’s Monsieur de Courfeyrac for you, young man,’ he said but did get up. ‘Well my darlings, have a good night.’ He gave both of them a kiss. ‘And you know, take it easy.’ 

-:-

It was too early in the morning when he was woken by a car driving up to the house and he shot up right. He wasn’t aware of any car arriving today and so far they had always been warned for visitors. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who got the shock because suddenly the house seemed to have woken up and urgent or running footsteps sounded on the wooden floors. Still in his pajamas he ran to the closest room that had view of the front door. Bahorel was already there and carefully peeking through the curtains. 

‘It’s one of ours, I think,’ he said. ‘I can see Bossuet.’ 

‘This better be a damn emergency to freak us out like this,’ Enjolras said, giving the scene downstairs one look before heading for the stairs. Combeferre was just informing everybody there was nothing to worry about when he came down but Eponine running past him towards Grantaire’s room spoke a different language. 

‘What is going on?’ Enjolras hissed at his best friend when the others had left again. 

‘Nothing major. A few paintings got missing and now they have nothing to print.’ 

Enjolras stared at him. ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said, not amused at all. ‘This is all because of some stupid paintings from a sick man who can hardly sit up on his own.’ Combeferre looked at him curiously. 

‘You have no idea, do you.’ He shook his head in disbelieve and lead him to what used to be the dining room but was now most often revered to as the war room where they did most of their planning and strategizing. Bossuet was already busy laying out sheets of paper Enjolras didn’t recognize. 

‘There’s nothing new, of course,’ Eponine said as she got in, carrying a suitcase. ‘But maybe there’s something useful we missed. The ones with a date are used and the cross means it’s not fit for publication.’ She placed the suitcase on a chair and took out another load of sketch books and papers. 

‘I still don’t understand,’ Enjolras said, watching everybody dive into the piles. 

‘You never read the ‘not quit war related’ part of the papers, do you?’ Combeferre said. ‘Take a look, maybe you could understand.’   
Enjolras took a few steps forwards and picked up a piece of paper. There was a drawing in black lines of a German soldier trying to tie a heavy gun to a bike. It looked clumsy and the German was looking truly frustrated. In neat handwriting underneath it said ‘By lack of cars…’. And it was dated nearly two years ago. ‘I still don’t…’ Enjolras mumbled, picking up a few others. They were all the same type of drawings, normally made of things related to normal day live. Some made you laugh, some made you smile, some just… made you feel things. The truly sad ones or the ones that just got too heavy had a red cross in the corner. Most of them were about trains or war fronts and spoke of missing family. All of them were signed with a simple R. 

‘How long has this been going on?’ Enjolras asked. 

‘Almost since the first illegal papers started to appear,’ Eponine informed him, watching him amused. ‘They are well read, almost famous.’ 

‘What happened to the ones we send earlier?’ Everybody turned around to see Grantaire leaning against the doorframe. He was pale and breathing heavy from the effort to get there but he was also looking serious. 

‘They got lost, it happens,’ Eponine said, quickly moving to him and helping him to a chair. 

‘Why don’t you put in some old ones?’ Enjolras asked, still looking through the drawings wondering how he had never seen any of them before. 

‘They already did a few times. We can’t have people worrying about R having left them,’ Bossuet said. 

‘Does anyone have a pen?’ Grantaire asked, reaching for an empty piece of paper. 

‘Hey, don’t worry about it, we’ll find something to print,’ Bossuet fussed but Grantaire waved him off. 

‘I do.’ Combeferre reached into his pocket and took one of his more fancy pens out, handing it to Grantaire. Enjolras watched silently as the man took the cap off and with slow gestures started drawing. He had to stop a few times to cough and each time Combeferre started looking more worried. It took nearly ten minutes for him to finish the drawing. Eponine took it and looked it over. 

‘That’s printable,’ she nodded because clearly that was her job. 

‘Great,’ Bossuet said, gathering the few drawings they had picked out of the stacks as Combeferre and Eponine quickly went to help Grantaire back to bed. Enjolras walked over to Bossuet and picked up the new drawing. It was a German plane flying over a forest and underneath it read: ‘That’s a tree, you moron!’ and ‘I draw therefore I am’.

-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the sweet comments and the kudos! More parts of this are on their way.


	3. Part 3

A short knock and the door opened. ‘Enjolras, I need your assistance for a moment.’ He didn’t ask but just gave a nod and put down the letter he was writing to follow his friend. They walked the corridors to the small room and Combeferre stepped in after knocking. 

‘Is he awake?’ he asked and through the door Enjolras could see Eponine sitting next to the bed. 

‘What is going on?’ Grantaire asked on his turn, sounding a bit sleepy mostly. 

‘We’re going to help you with something that might make you feel a bit better,’ Combeferre explained. ‘If you’re up for it, Feuilly is preparing a bath in the kitchen.’ 

Standing outside, he couldn’t see or hear everything but after a moment Combeferre signed him to come in and stand on one side of the man, who placed his arms around their shoulders and slowly they started walking to the small room next to the kitchen. Grantaire was a bit smaller than them both so it was easy to support him and they didn’t have to go far. 

The bath was nearly ready when they arrived and they placed Grantaire on a chair to let him rest for a moment. ‘It’s alright, you can go,’ he told Eponine who had followed them. 

‘Actually, would you mind doing something for me?’ Combeferre stopped her before she could leave. ‘Find Cosette and ask her to get some clean sheets.’ She nodded and gave Grantaire a quick kiss on his cheek before she left. 

‘Not to sound mean,’ Enjolras said as he helped Grantaire undress, ‘but when was the last time you had a bath?’ 

‘Don’t know. Last few weeks were a bit blurry,’ Grantaire admitted, shivering slightly at the air on his now bare skin. He must have been a beautiful man once but now all Enjolras noticed on him were scars, bruises and dirt. Feuilly poured the last bucket into the bath and offered Grantaire a hand to step into it. ‘I can see why you can use a bath,’ Grantaire grinned. 

‘I Don’t know what you mean,’ Feuilly said, ruffling his hair to let a stream of sand fall out of it. 

‘Are you a farmer?’ Grantaire asked, accepting the soap and with slow movements started cleaning himself. 

‘Now I am,’ Feuilly smiled, sitting next to the bath to help him. 

‘So, what did you use to do?’ 

Feuilly shrugged and pushed back his red hair to reveal a big scar hidden underneath it. ‘I don’t remember,’ he explained, hiding the old wound again. ‘As in, I don’t remember anything. For all I know, I could be German.’ 

‘We don’t care what he might have been,’ Combeferre said, having walked back in carrying a few clean clothes and towels. ‘Right now he’s a massive help and a good person.’ 

‘Maybe you were a Scottish pilot,’ Grantaire smiled, seemingly not concerned by it at all. He hold onto the side of the bath when he started coughing. 

‘Yeah, probably,’ Feuilly nodded. ‘I saved so many lives, I’m really a war hero.’ 

Combeferre indicated Feuilly and Enjolras to sit at one side of the bath and support Grantaire’s back to lower him further into the water so Combeferre could wash his hair. It took them three times to get it done properly because Grantaire kept breaking into coughing. By the time they were finished and he was dressed again in soft clean clothes, they had Bahorel carry him back to his room because he kept nearly passing out from exhaustion. When Enjolras came to check on him later it wasn’t just him that looked peaceful while sleeping and much more healthy now clean, but also Eponine who was smiling next to him. 

-:-

Enjolras looked up when the backdoor opened behind him and smiled when he saw exactly what he was expecting. 

‘If anyone were to ask who helped you, please deny for my sake,’ he said as he got up to put another chair in the sun and help Grantaire to it. ‘We are all under strict orders from Combeferre to keep you in bed.’ 

‘Shame for you Eponine informed me of the date yesterday and I have no intentions on staying in bed any longer.’ He leaned slightly on Enjolras but seemed to manage fine otherwise. There was no more fever, he was just weak. 

‘I never realized how big this house was,’ he said when he was comfortably seated and able to look at the building in full. ‘Who’s is it?’ 

‘It belongs to Cosette’s father, who is the mayor of this town,’ Enjolras told him. ‘He’s friendly with the Germans, so it’s as save as can be to stay here. Cosette’s husband, Marius, he’s a friend from the university. Although it seemed like ages ago any of us actually studied anything.’ 

‘What did you study?’ Grantaire wondered. 

‘History, what is completely useless right now. It would have been better if I had studied something like Combeferre.’ 

‘Sorry to agree, but yes. Doctors are always handy when it comes to war.’ 

‘Sorry to inform you, but he’s a vet.’ 

Grantaire looked at him in disbelieve for a moment and started laughing. ‘Are you for real? Oh god, can you please not tell Eponine? She’d never let me hear the end of my live being saved by a vet.’ 

Enjolras smiled at how easy it seemed to make him laugh. ‘So what about you? What did you do before the war?’ 

‘Well, not to brag,’ Grantaire said and continued on a tune as if telling something really confidential, ‘but I used to be really good at sweeping floors.’ He nodded serious. ‘I used to be someone. And now look at me, all I do is draw cartoons that get spread all over the country, and all of it in secret.’ 

‘Some people get all the fun, right?’ Enjolras smiled. 

‘Right. Tell me why it is you are here in secret and Combeferre is not?’ 

‘It’s because of poor old Monsieur Madeleine his health,’ Enjolras said, placing a hand on his heart and looking very serious. ‘All the real nurses are gone, so he keeps Combeferre around because he at least had some medical training. And luckily Joly and Bossuet are able to supply him with whatever medication he might need from the city. While I am a known leader of the resistance, I got quit a name out there and because of it I’m stuck in here.’ 

‘At least you get to go on day trips,’ Grantaire shrugged. ‘Or, night trips.’ 

‘So did you,’ Enjolras pointed out. 

‘Several,’ Grantaire nodded. ‘Eponine said that the two weeks before we came here, we had five. Jealous now?’ 

‘Not one bit,’ Enjolras ensured him and they stayed silent. 

-:- 

‘Mom, I want to be a professional potato peeler when I grow up.’ 

‘Son, there really is only one bit of advice I can give you to achieve such a high goal, and that is to practice. Every day. Peel potatoes till you’re not able to feel your arms any more, and even then keep on peeling.’ The new woman spoke very serious and with a lot of arm gestures. 

‘You two are a remarkable sight,’ Enjolras commented, stepping into the kitchen now where both her and Grantaire were in comfortable chairs with their feet resting on another one together. They were peeling potatoes and collecting them in a big pot in between them. 

‘Thank you very much,’ Grantaire chuckled. 

‘You must be Enjolras,’ the woman smiled friendly. ‘I would get up to greet you, but…’ She tapped her leg and from underneath her long dress you could see the bandage around her leg and feet. Enjolras walked towards her to shake her hand. ‘Musichetta,’ she told him. 

‘Pleasure,’ he said. ‘I hope that doesn’t bother you too much?’ 

‘The leg or Grantaire?’ she checked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Because we are enjoying ourselves just fine here, aren’t we darling?’ 

‘Massively,’ Grantaire nodded in agreement. ‘Combeferre officially took me off complete bed rest, so I really couldn’t be better.’ 

‘Good, I’m glad for you. We could seriously use your help, the lot of us are going on a few more field trips.’ 

Grantaire saluted him. ‘I’ll set my best man to it. That’s Eponine by the way, you haven’t met her yet,’ he informed Musichetta, who nodded understanding. 

-:- 

‘Have you read this yet?’ Feuilly informed, waving with the simple book made out of a few loose papers folded together. 

‘The Adventures of the English Pilot,’ Enjolras snorted. ‘Every hard to believe story Courfeyrac ever told us combined.’ The younger man had joined him in the war room during his break. 

‘Imagine not knowing Courfeyrac and reading this,’ Feuilly smiled, trying to get the last bits of food off his plate with his spoon. 

‘It would give the wrong view of English soldiers coming to help us.’ 

‘I disagree. It’s human, it gives the soldiers a face. More importantly, it’s funny.’ 

Enjolras nodded, noting down a few numbers before taking up another pile of food stamps to count. ‘Still, it’s hard to believe.’ 

‘Doesn’t matter if it’s true,’ Feuilly shrugged. ‘It’s… nice. It’s just nice. I hope they will print it. Do we have enough yet?’ 

Enjolras hold up his hand to make him wait while he did some quick calculations. Then he sighed and shook his head. ‘Not yet. Let’s hope Courfeyrac gets more done.’ 

‘Our English Pilot,’ Feuilly chuckled. 

-:-

Enjolras knocked on the wood of the door to the small library before opening it. The room was dark except for the light of a single candle next to the comfortable couch. The small figure was curled up on it with a book in his lap but he wasn’t fooling anybody by reading it, it was too dark. It was also too dark to see if he might be crying. 

‘Eponine said you might be here,’ Enjolras explained. ‘I brought you some tea.’ 

‘Thanks,’ Grantaire mumbled, shifting a bit to put the book away and accept the cup Enjolras handed him. ‘It’s a bit… crowded downstairs.’ 

‘I understand. Do you want me to leave.’ 

‘No,’ he said a bit too fast. ‘I mean, you could… if you want to…’ 

Before he sat down he used the candle that was already lit to light a few more and take some of the scary feeling away from the room. ‘It is rather crowded,’ Enjolras agreed. ‘I keep telling Combeferre not to bring in any more, but it’s just too tempting to take in everybody who needs it.’ 

Grantaire nodded. ‘It’s a good place to be.’ They sat on the couch together and drank the tea in silence. 

‘It’s my sisters birthday today.’ Enjolras looked aside but the man was just staring into the distance. 

‘Do you know where she is?’ Enjolras asked soft but Grantaire was already shaking his head. 

‘Trains,’ was all he said to explain. Enjolras reached over and took his hand and squeezed soft. 

‘It’s difficult sometimes,’ Grantaire said after a silent moment. ‘To feel guilty every time you laugh. To jump at every sound. And so many things remind me of them and it hurts. It hurts not knowing.’ 

‘It can’t take that much longer,’ Enjolras said soft. 

‘The war you mean. But will it ever really stop? And sometimes I’m scared for them to come back, but I’m also scared they might never come back. It’s breaking me, Enjolras.’ 

A soft pull at his hand broke the tension and Enjolras moved a bit closer to hug Grantaire tight. The arms around him were trembling slightly but he wasn’t really crying, he was just miserable and Enjolras just hold him. 

-:-

The man died in Grantaire’s arms. There had never been any change he would survive and all they had done the last two days was make his live comfortable and give him some joy. Somehow he had found out who Grantaire was and Enjolras had witnessed the joy it had given him to get to know Grantaire, even if it were short. Grantaire had taken the fame in a good way and had stayed with him, letting him read his newest drawings and comforted him with words like Enjolras had never seen before. He had died calm and smiling. 

You had to do with what you had so the funeral was simple and Eponine put in some effort to make it at least a bit Jewish as well. She lead the ceremony in a beautiful way that gave some closure to these troubled days. Grantaire was silent all evening, sitting in a corner and making drawings in his privet book nobody was allowed to see. 

The next evening Courfeyrac was back and he played piano while Musichetta sang the English songs that belonged with it. There was laughter and Grantaire started the dance with Eponine, soon joined by others. 

‘Come on, Apollo,’ he called laughing. ‘Show me your feet.’ Enjolras smiled and walked closer, letting himself be led by the sudden happiness that had cleared away the sorrow for now. He danced with Grantaire, and others but mostly Grantaire. There was something in the looks they shared, something strong and knowing. Something that made him long for him to stay forever close by. He pulled him closer and without thinking about it let their lips touch. Soon as they had though, he let go and stepped backwards. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he stuttered, the sudden movement making everybody in the room stop and turn around. Grantaire seemed to… almost consider it for a moment before a smile appeared on his face. 

‘If there is anything they might catch me for, let this be my sin,’ he said and walked forward till he was in front of Enjolras again. He took hold of his hand and kissed him. Eponine was the first to cheer, followed by Courfeyrac who picked up the music again and then the party really got started. 

-:-


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to bring this to an end, what will probably be up sometime next week. It's a bit of a struggle to write a decent ending but I think I got it figured out now. 
> 
> The story Grantaire tells about the people on the train is a true story from the diary of a Jewish man during that time.

The setting sun gave the room a special and a bit mysterious look. When he entered Grantaire was sitting up in bed with sketch material on the blankets, but he looked tired. 

‘I have two requests,’ the man started when Enjolras sat down. ‘Wait for me, then reconsider.’ 

‘I’m not sure I understand that,’ Enjolras said, frowning slightly. 

‘Combeferre told me you dated man before and you might be serious about… getting to know me that way. Am I correct?’ 

It didn’t help with the confusion. ‘You asked Combeferre? When?’ 

Grantaire grinned but tried to hide it by collecting his drawings to put them away. ‘Weeks ago, blame it on the fever.’ 

‘Does that mean you’re serious about me?’ 

He stopped in his movements for a moment and nodded. ‘I will be, when it has ended and I am still capable of… Anything. All I can give you right now is a promise to an honest attempt one day. It’s alright if you don’t wait though, I understand.’ 

‘I’ll wait.’ 

He finally looked around to look him in the eyes. Deep and grey. He nodded. 

-:-

It was one of those rare days when the sun was shining and for a moment there didn’t seem to be anything urgent that needed to be done before dinner. 

‘I remember the first time I had to wear a star on my clothes.’ They had dragged several pieces of furniture out on the field so all of them could catch some sun on their pale faces. Grantaire had a smile on his face as he remembered. Enjolras made himself a bit more comfortable against him while trying to think of a way to defeat Combeferre in the slow and lazy game of chess they were playing. 

‘I still had a job and I had to take the train to get there,’ he moved on. ‘So it was before everything was closed off for Jews. And it was weird to wear it, it didn’t make any sense. Like wearing a piece of paper that said… ‘’my hair is black’’.’ 

‘Or ‘’I like to go swimming when it’s warm outside’’,’ Eponine snorted soft. 

‘’’My grandmother had big tits’’,’ Courfeyrac was glad to contribute, what caused for various giggles. 

‘Like stating a fact,’ Grantaire nodded. ‘It wasn’t sinful or something to be ashamed of. It felt useless and out of place and during that ride everybody just seemed to agree. A man walked into my coupe, saw me and said: ‘’Ah, now I know this is where I want to sit’’. Everybody behaved like it was just a massive joke because it was. When I got out of the train, I walked past a man who actually laughed when he saw and he said: ‘’That’s not going to last more than a few days, but keep the star. For your children, as a reminder of this strange week.’’.’ He smiled but Enjolras wasn’t sure whether to smile as well or to frown at how naïve they had been and how strange things had turned out. 

‘And?’ Musichetta asked. ‘Did you keep it?’ 

‘Yeah, of course I did.’ 

-:-

By the footsteps in the hallway Enjolras could hear the anger before the man stormed into his study. 

‘How am I supposed to make drawings that are up to date and meaningful when you won’t allow me to join you in anything?’ Grantaire nearly shouted. His friendly face was frowning and clearly upset. 

‘First of all, it wasn’t just me who made this decision,’ Enjolras started to cover himself. 

‘Yes, but we all know who really makes the decisions when it comes to these things. And it’s such a bullshit you are taking Eponine but I’m not allowed to do anything!’ 

‘Hey, I heard you are extremely helpful around the house,’ Enjolras tried but even before he had finished his sentence Grantaire was rolling his eyes. 

‘It’s not even around the house, it’s like I’m stuck in that bloody kitchen. How is it you even trust Feuilly more than you trust me?’ 

Now it was Enjolras turn to look annoyed. ‘It’s not about trust. Feuilly has been here longer and you are still recovering.’ 

‘It’s not gonna get any better any time soon,’ Grantaire said, crossing his arms. ‘And I have just as much right to be out there as anyone else. Maybe even more because I need to see those things to draw about them, I can’t keep drawing stories I just heard, I need to see it myself.’ 

‘I can’t have you around,’ Enjolras turned back at his papers. ‘End of discussion.’ 

‘That’s-‘ 

‘Grantaire, I have nothing left to say,’ Enjolras frowned, making a point of looking determined and perhaps a bit scary. The scary bit didn’t seem to affect him though. Grantaire opened his mouth one more time but instead of words there was just a frustrated sound and he stormed out to complain against somebody else. 

‘It wouldn’t be fair,’ Enjolras mumbled, picking up his pencil again. It wouldn’t be fair, he would pick Grantaire’s safety over anything else, he would go to hell and back just to keep him save. But it wasn’t Grantaire who needed him out there. 

-:-

‘They will be here before winter falls,’ Courfeyrac nodded as if he could arrange the English and their oversea alleys to move any faster himself. He probably would if he could, even if it included motivating every single soldier himself and washing all their dirty underwear for them. 

‘They better be,’ Enjolras said, scanning through his notebook and slowly shaking his head. 

‘Haven’t you been listening to the radio?’ Courfeyrac said enthusiastic. ‘And the latest papers? They all say good news is on their way.’ 

‘I’m not so worried about the people who are on their way here,’ Combeferre said, tapping with his pencil on the table. ‘I’m worried about feeding the people who are already here.’ 

‘More food and more people to England,’ Enjolras nodded. ‘Easily said.’ 

‘Oh, come on guys!’ Courfeyrac laughed. ‘We have managed so far, those last few weeks are not going to hurt us, we will find a way as we have always done so far.’ 

-:-

‘How do you do it every time?’ 

‘Do what?’ Grantaire asked, looking up from the dishes he was cleaning for a slight moment. Musichetta was supposed to dry them but instead had been pacing the room all evening. 

‘The waiting! The endless waiting without updates.’ 

Grantaire shrugged and continued his work. ‘Keep busy I guess. I just try not to think about it.’ 

‘That’s easily said,’ she sighed miserable, leaning over the kitchen counter to look out of the small window. 

‘I used to think that after every fearful moment my heart would break a little till it couldn’t take any more. But now… my heart doesn’t seem to notice the pain it is in. Until it’s dark and I’m alone and I can hear it breaking apart inside of me and fill me with everything I refuse to acknowledge through the day.’ He pushed a strand of hair out of his face and looked over at his friend for a brief moment. She was looking at him horrified. ‘So, I keep busy and make sure my head is asleep at night before my heart can take over.’ 

She walked over to him and placed her strong arms around him. 

-:-

After half a day, the pacing and complaining stopped. Most of them stopped talking all together and with only half of its population and the other half silent, the house felt like it was waiting for death. And it might as well have been. 

Combeferre did his best to keep them all moving to stop them from thinking but after every long hour Grantaire’s hands started shaking more, Musichetta’s silent swearing got louder and Cosette’s nervous giggles got on everybody’s nerves. Every squeaking sound made everybody look hopefully in the direction of the front door. When the evening filled the house with shadows they all gathered in the living room to be silent and scared together. 

The room was tilted sideways when he opened his eyes again and the smell was unmistakably Musichetta. Maybe it was her calming presence that made everything look a bit surreal and kept him lying there for a moment too long. The door opened and Enjolras stepped inside, what was enough reason alone to make him sit up. The look on his face was the reason to do it fast. 

‘We have to move,’ he said. ‘Ten minutes, leave nothing behind.’ 

-:-

‘Make a fire,’ Grantaire instructed, tying a blanket around himself to serve as the warm coat he didn’t have. 

‘I’m not going to-‘ 

‘Make a bloody fire, Marius!’ Grantaire shouted as loud as he dared. Combeferre still gave him a warning look in passing by. ‘Any paper that holds my name, or even just an R, you have to get rid of it. They cannot find it here, you understand?’ 

Marius stood before him and slowly shook his head in disbelieve. ‘I won’t be able to burn your drawings, they’re important! You’ve seen yourself how important they are to people. This is going to be history.’ 

‘Well, I’m not planning to be history any time soon. The only true thing I have done in this war is to stay alive. It’s a group effort but I’m still here. Running, but I prefer to be running than on one of those trains. And you don’t understand how annoyed they are by me still being alive. They know I am, they’ve seen the drawings from the very start of all this. And all this time I’ve been right under their noses but they can’t see me. Imagine what they would be willing to do to catch me, sound familiar? We do not want them to know I am at the same place Enjolras and Courfeyrac are. It’s better for us if they are searching for two different places. So you’re going to turn this house around before they arrive and any proof of me being here is going into the fire.’ 

‘But-‘ 

‘Promise me you will, Marius. Give me your word.’ 

Marius stared at him for a moment. He nodded.


	5. Part 5

It had been a difficult decision but they had decided it would be saver for Combeferre to stay behind. His position was too important to give up and it would raise too much suspicion if he disappeared without a decent reason in the same night the house would be searched. So he had stayed behind and they all hoped they would be ignorant to his position in the group. 

Five of them dissolved into the night and Feuilly let the way through the damp fields, trying to stay out of view from the roads. It was a slow going and Musichetta slowed them down even more, despite Courfeyrac’s help. Enjolras did his best to keep his friends and the whole area in view to anticipate on anything that could happen. On their way to the house, he and Courfeyrac had made a plan. It seemed likely at least one of their party members had been taken and would probably be questioned, so they had to move. He handed his suitcase to Grantaire and took Musichetta’s other arm over his shoulder. In their calculations one thing had been very clear, they needed to find a save house before sunrise. 

Grantaire didn’t make a sound when he tripped over something in the dark and fall into the mud. The mud did make a sound and it was enough for them to stop and wait till he got up. Enjolras could see he was shivering and tried to meet his eyes but the man just got back on his feet and moved on. 

 

-:-

 

Enjolras moved to sit with him in the corner of the dark attic. 

‘Maybe they’ll find us again,’ he whispered, trying to sound hopeful. 

‘Maybe she…’ Grantaire stopped talking to breath in deep. ‘Maybe…’ A soft sound escaped his lips and he quickly pressed them together to keep from crying. Enjolras placed an arm around him to offer him some comfort and softly stroke his hair. 

‘Where is your family?’ Grantaire asked him so soft it took some effort to make out the words. 

‘They’re… I’m not sure. When I left to study I never meant to return and so far I never did. My brother wrote me once, when everything had just started, to tell me he had gone go Germany and advised me to do the same. Apparently my father took the opportunity to make a new career for himself. So of course I did the opposite and joined the resistance. I think that sums up my family.’ 

Grantaire pressed a bit closer against him. ‘Sorry I asked.’ 

‘That’s alright.’ It was silent for a moment except for the soft breathing Musichetta made in her sleep. ‘Can I ask about yours?’ 

‘They… my father and I fall out over my… He found out I was dating a man and I haven’t spoken to him since. My sister keeps, she used to keep contact, but…’ Grantaire took a moment to breath in again. ‘She has two little daughters and they’re so sweet. I used to take them out, they loved going to the park. One time we had a midwinter picnic because they wanted to know if the ducks would be cold out there on their own. Of course there were no ducks so I told them this whole story about how they had gone home…’ 

He took Enjolras hand and squeezed tight as he curled in on himself. Enjolras took him in his arms and slowly rocked him. 

 

-:-

 

‘I recognize it from my uncle,’ Courfeyrac told him softly while poking in the bowl of something unsure they had gotten for food. ‘He fought in the big war, you know. My aunty always says he never returned, in his head he’s still fighting. And Grantaire…’ 

‘His head is in those trains,’ Enjolras sighed, looking over at the man who had been staring at his knees for nearly an hour now. ‘So what do we do?’ 

‘If this is about R I want in,’ Feuilly whispered, moving closer to join the conversation. ‘He’s going to explode someday.’

‘We need to make sure he doesn’t scream in his sleep,’ Courfeyrac frowned. ‘Luckily the war won’t last much longer.’ 

‘You’ve been saying that for over two years now,’ Enjolras reminded him soft.   
‘Some day it will be true.’ 

‘He needs to retire,’ Feuilly offered. ‘Get him away from all of this. Except…’ 

‘We need the drawings,’ Enjolras sighed. ‘Especially this winter.’ 

 

-:-

 

Being a group in search of a hiding place with some great connections in the resistance, they figured it was time to visit one of the other leaders and ask for help. Of course Enjolras had some difficulty accepting he needed help but Grantaire was able to explain to him in fine words why he had to accept. It still took nearly two weeks of hiding in dark places, traveling by night, false identification and one good German soldier who looked the other way before they arrived in the secret back room of who people called ‘The poet’. 

‘But you can call me Jehan.’ It wasn’t a large man and definitely not impressive looking. His clothing was too loose for his slim figure, his hair was braided like a country girl and if it wasn’t for the confident look on his face and his crossed arms Enjolras would never have believed this young man was the mastermind behind the longest running resistance newspaper with the largest circulation. 

‘Jehan,’ Grantaire said, seemingly considering it for a moment. He had his arm against the wall, trying to hide how much he was leaning against it. Two weeks of movement and being worried had tired him out. Truth be told, Enjolras could have made it here in a few days if Grantaire and Musichetta hadn’t slowed him down and if their numbers had been smaller. But he had not for one minute considered breaking their small group apart. ‘It’s short. I like it,’ he nodded, stepping forward and extending his hand. ‘I’m R.’ 

‘I had a feeling you would be,’ Jehan grinned, holding his hand with a strong grip. 

‘It’s not just your name that’s likable,’ Courfeyrac said charming, what rewarded him a small laugh. ‘My name is De Courfeyrac, but for you just Courf will be fine.’ 

‘It’s not just your name that is interesting,’ Jehan said, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’re an Englishman with a French name and your Dutch is remarkable fine. Am I right to guess he is The English Pilot?’ He looked at Grantaire, who shrugged. 

‘He talks too much.’ 

 

-:-

 

‘I have to say, I’m impressed.’ Enjolras nodded thinking, staring at the small book Jehan had handed him. 

‘Yeah, it’s a lot of numbers on a really small page,’ Grantaire said, looking over his shoulder for a moment. ‘Incredible handwriting.’ 

Jehan smiled like he had just gotten a really big compliment, and maybe he had. ‘Thank you. This is what we’re working on right now. But mostly I make newspapers and support and help small organizations. I know people who are in them or I know how I can get in touch with them. And I keep informed on how they’re doing. But unlike you, I have never actually sabotaged a train, or robbed food stamps. I just handle information and send it to the people who need to know about it.’ 

‘And print papers,’ Grantaire added. 

‘What is also about spreading information.’ 

Sitting down, Enjolras was still reading the small book while making all kind of calculations in his head. ‘I have a few contacts in England that might be useful for you, Courfeyrac is able to send.’ 

‘This is going to be a useful cooperation,’ Jehan grinned. 

 

-:-

 

‘What do you want to do after the war?’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Enjolras said confused, looking up from his writing to see Jehan next to him still in the middle of it. The man was relaxed and easy to be around. It was no wonder so many people trusted him with their lives. 

‘I know it’s a shame their plan didn’t work out and we’ll probably have to sit out the winter,’ he continued. ‘If so, it’s going to be a long and difficult winter. But after that, it can’t be more than a few months.’ 

‘You’ve been spending too much time with Courfeyrac,’ Enjolras said, shaking his hair. Jehan nodded confirming, not seeming bothered by it at all. ‘I’d rather concentrate on this winter for now.’ 

‘But you must have a plan, right? Something you want to do, someone you want to find?’ 

Enjolras sighed and leaned back in his chair. This building was not hardly as comfortable as Valjeans house, but it was decent and at least less rooms to look through if you needed to find someone. ‘I plan on helping our country for as long as it needs us. It’s going to take a while before things can go back to normal. There’ll be lots of things to do.’ 

‘Normal,’ Jehan repeated and chuckled. ‘I never imagined I’d be longing for normal.’ 

 

-:-

 

The room fall completely silent. For a long moment Enjolras didn’t even dare to disturb the shock by moving his head to look at his friends. Jehan took a breath to add something to his statement but decided against it and let out the air again. Musichetta put down the paper. 

‘That was… certainly unexpected.’ 

‘They helped us get away,’ Grantaire said silently. Enjolras looked over at the man at the other end of the kitchen table. The man had gotten more pale during the last couple weeks and had been taken off work when he started suffering from dizziness and had fainted a couple of times. Combeferre had come over to take a look at him but there had been nothing he could do. He needed rest, he needed food and he needed medicine but so did half of them and there just wasn’t enough. Grantaire knew this and had refused any help, reminding them every time they did not need him. They just needed his drawings and he could make them despite being dizzy. ‘Eponine and me,’ he went on, hardly noticeable in the heavy silence. ‘They got us out before the razzia started in Amsterdam.’ 

‘You knew them,’ Enjolras said surprised. 

‘A few,’ Grantaire shrugged. ‘Even before… But I don’t think they have any information on me.’ 

Enjolras looked over at Jehan. ‘How about you? You worked with them, how much can they give away?’ 

‘You say this right, Enjolras,’ Jehan said. ‘I worked with them, I could communicate things to them but it did not work the other way. We have to rewrite the code but we are save.’ 

‘Still,’ Musichetta said. ‘Patron-Minette, they are nearly legendary. There was nothing they could not do.’ 

‘Apparently there was,’ Jehan sighed. ‘They were there from the start and they’ll be missed.’ 

‘So are we,’ Enjolras said. ‘And we have to let the people know we are still here.’

 

-:-

 

‘It’s not going to stop, is it?’ 

Enjolras softly stroke his black hair. ‘Not until they stop.’ 

A sight and Grantaire looked around, staring into his eyes with his intense and wise look. ‘They might never stop. I don’t know how many times more I can let you go like this. How many more nights, more days, more death and missing.’

Softly, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on his lips. Grantaire closed his eyes when he did, what was a strange relieve. ‘This is my country, those are my people. So I will keep going for as long as I need.’ 

‘How long do you need?’ Grantaire asked soft with his eyes still closed. 

‘Till everything is set right. I feel responsible, R. My family brought forth some terrible people and all I hope is to do more right than they did wrong. But thinking of all the death and misery they created I fear there will be nothing big enough to set it right.’ 

‘A lifetime,’ Grantaire said, moving in to rest his head on his shoulder. ‘You’ll need a lifetime.’ 

 

-:-

 

‘How about Courfeyrac?’ 

Joly smiled and then even laughed. ‘Courfeyrac. What a joy it has been to get to know him. He’s finally gone back to England, it took some time to convince him Jehan needed him there, he was way too keen on staying.’ 

‘But he’s alright?’ Grantaire checked and the nurse nodded. 

‘Fine as ever. But I think even Enjolras misses him, though he’s trying to prove us wrong by telling us several times a day how delightful the silence is. Enjolras misses everyone he ever met and grew to like.’ 

Grantaire nodded. ‘He has a good heart.’ 

‘Certainly. And so do you.’ Joly squeezed his hand and Grantaire smiled a bit. They got up and left the farm through the back door, where Joly had parked his bike with wooden tires. 

‘I probably won’t be able to visit for a while,’ he warned as he put on too big gloves to shield his hands from the winter’s cold breath. The papers he tugged under his coat. ‘Try to stay warm, I’m sure you’ll be fine. And remember it’s okay to let those two ladies fuss over you a bit, it won’t harm them to feel like they’re helping.’ 

Grantaire laughed soft and gave him a short hug. ‘Give them all my love. And just promise you’ll come and get me when this ends indeed.’ 

‘You’ll be the first thing on my mind when I meet my first American. I’ll be here to tell you how handsome he was as quickly as I can. I promise.’ 

-:- .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing this to an end was more difficult than I had imagined, sorry for the delay. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this (rather intense) story and especially thank you for the comments, I enjoy hearing how you have experienced this. I had not expected writing about this would be so difficult at times, but it was strangely helpful after a few heavy conversations I had about the subject with my father during the summer. So I thank you for letting me share this.


End file.
